


Heart

by Claudia_flies



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: F/M, Heat Fic, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_flies/pseuds/Claudia_flies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gratuitous heat fic. Max is stubborn, Alec helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2007. It’s been ages since I watched the series, so I might have some of the facts wrong. I apologise.

  
_Told you I'll be here forever_   
_Said I'll always be your friend_   
_Took an oath_   
_I'ma stick it out 'till the end_

_You're part of my entity_   
_Here for infinity_   
_When the war has took its part_   
_When the world has dealt its cards_   
_If the hand is hard_   
_Together we'll mend your heart_

-Rihanna  _Umbrella_  


  
  
  
  
The cell is dank and mould grows in the cracks of the walls. Renfro's smiles are sharp and brilliant through the bars. Max wants to fight and tear flesh with her teeth, but she squeezes her hands into fists and lets her nails draw blood, because she needs to cling to her control. It is her only victory against the smiles that kill. Renfro’s words are round and her lips are soft as she speaks, gently stepping closer to the bars that separate them.   
  
“Do you feel where the needle pierced your skin? I image you would. Blood welling around the skin and forcing it to heal too fast, too fast for humans. But I think you can’t feel those hormones in your veins, can you? Insulated by your perfect muscles and antibodies sizzling in your veins. We did make you perfect, after all.”  
  
She smiles, and Max grinds her teeth. Her side throbs, from where she knows the punctures are. She wants to close her eyes and stop the woman from seeing how right she is, but she never managed that kind of detachment. That was always Alec's forte.  _Little brainwashing, little torture_. And now Renfro knows it, and with a final flash of teeth she turns around on her impractically high heels and marches out.   
  
For a long time Max stands still in front of the door, her breath brushing the filthy bars. She knows that if she moves, she will explode and sink her fist into the concrete wall again, and then there will be men with guns and tranquilizers and she does not want to be asleep one minute longer than necessary. So she holds still and lets her rage simmer. She remembers glimpses of time from when they brought her in. The lights are familiar from before, and they still hurt her eyes. Strangely she doesn't remember the needles, but the woman's voice is embedded in her mind. Words like  _ova_  and _harvesting_  and  _impregnation_  create frightful patterns in her mind, and not for the first time Max prays.   
  
Time passes, she thinks it's maybe a few hours, but she can't be sure. It starts as a little rumble and little flakes of concrete floating down from the ceiling. She thinks that maybe it’s construction work, or maybe it’s an anomaly who is still living inside those walls. She thinks that maybe they missed somebody the last time, maybe they left somebody behind.   
  
When the concrete begins to cave inwards and the flakes turn into pieces of rock, Max throws the mattress on the floor to muffle the sound. She crouches by the back wall, away from the flying debris, and smiles.  _I knew they would not leave me, I had no doubts_ ; she lies to herself. Then the ceiling gives in and a slab of concrete falls down, and the mattress does nothing to hide the sound. Nothing happens and Max counts the seconds. Two. Five.   
  
Then Alec's head pops through the hole, winning smiles and cocky attitude still in place. Hanging upside down he manages a lopsided salute.  
  
“Did ma'am order an escape on the go?”  
  
They pull her through the hole in the concrete, Alec, Biggs and two other X5's she doesn't know.  _Damn_. She is supposed to be their leader and she doesn't even know their names. They slide through the roof structure of the base, evading the sharp metal prongs protruding from the walls and the thick concrete slabs leaning against the bare, dusty walls, which might give away their position.   
  
For the first time she doesn’t complain having to sit in the back of Alec’s bike, as they make their way back to Seattle through the dirt roads. Max convinces herself that it’s gratitude, and blatantly ignores Alec’s smirks and offhand comments of “knew you wanted to ride me.” But she makes sure to cuff him on the head when she slides off the bike in front of her building. She doesn’t bother to stay and listen to his overtly theatrical complaints, but disappears through the door, with her mind already on gentling the worried OC.  
  
Max doesn't really get it, when it starts. She just presses her ass against the pool table a bit more at Crash, and reminds herself not to wear this particular pair of thong again. Logan looks at her a bit funny, but the gentleman that he is, doesn’t mention it. But it's not the thong. The burn and the itch continues while she is in the shower. Gently she slides her hand between her legs, searching for the wound, but her fingers won't get far, the pads merely sliding over her clit and she is coming so hard that she has to lean on the wall for support. For a while she just shakes. She doesn't feel the water run cold against her back.   
  
She tosses and sweats buckets through the night, and silently counts the months from the calendar of her cycle imprinted in her head. Each time she comes to the same conclusion.  _Too early, too early_. But still she keeps counting just in the hopes of coming up with a different answer the next time.   
  
She goes to work, and delivers parcels on her bike while grinding her teeth and fighting the urge to hump the leather seat. Whenever they pass one another by the baggage station or between the rows of lockers, Alec gives her this look, like he knows, and like he would not want to be anywhere near her.   
  
She goes home pissed off and achy, and masturbates for hours in the shower. Cindy bangs on the bathroom door and yells at her for using the hot water from the entire building. Max just ignores her.  
  
On the second day Cindy asks about it.  
  
“Is it your heat?”  
  
Max isn't really surprised, the girl has eyes, but she doesn't really want to talk about it. The next night she stops being able to come. Her fingers slide uselessly over her throbbing and burning clit.   
  
She stops going to work. Instead she roams around the apartment like a cat in heat, like what she really is. But it’s artificial; she can feel the hormones and pheromones clogging in her arteries and pores like poison. They make her achy and hot, but the desire of her natural heat is missing. She has no desire to seek out a mate or a man. She barely tolerates her own fingers over her sensitized flesh anymore, and the thought of a stranger’s fingers make her shudder. So, she walks around the apartment; living room, hallway, kitchen, her room, Cindy’s room, bathroom, living room, again and again. She does ab-crunches until her muscles spasm and acid burns in her mouth, and mechanically she slides her finger over her clit even though she knows that it won’t relieve the burn. Won’t make any difference.  
  
Cindy brings ice from the fish market and Max empties it into the tub and sits there until it melts around her shaking flesh, and for a while the burn around her clit is gone. She still aches though, deep inside where the ice doesn't reach. Cindy watches her from the doorway as she sits in the now melted water. Cindy's been there the whole time, watching her degenerate to this point where she no longer cares that the old, tatty t-shirt is half soaked and that her hair hangs limply past her ears.  
  
“It will go away.”  
  
She has been saying that for the past five days. Cindy just nods slowly, her brown curls sliding against the uneven edge of the door. Finally Cindy disappears from the doorway, and Max can hear a pan clanging in the kitchen. She rubs her feet under the water and the skin is crinkly beneath her fingers. Slowly the throb in her clit starts again.   
  
It’s been a week. Seven days. Max has counted them all from sunrise to sunset. The sweat that has gathered between her shoulder blades smells stale and sick. It should be over, gone, purged from her body. Instead it’s worse. The burn has spread everywhere, and she pulls her knees against her chest, pushes the heel of her palm against her clit, slides it down over and over again, harder every time. The pain of it is easier to bear than the constant burn and ache of arousal.   
  
She hears the door bang and hears Cindy calling out her name. She doesn’t answer; she can’t with tears and saliva clogging her throat. Then Cindy is by the door, her eyes clouded with worry, and Max tries to smile, tries to reassure her. Alec is next to her, pupils wide and black. Then the scent assaults her, of male and sweat and blood. Alec watches her, knuckles white and finger splintering the doorframe.   
  
“I need you to say it Maxie; I need to know you’re okay with this.”  
  
His voice is familiar and she hears herself begging, the long string of  _yesyesyes, please now_ , echoing from her throat. Alec comes into the room, shedding his jacket onto the floor, and she sees Cindy from the corner of her eye, standing in the edge of the door, the corners of her lips tight and worried. Alec pulls off his t-shirt and crawls into the bed with his shoes still on and dark eyes fixed on her. Max cannot recognise the look, cannot place it; like he wants to be nowhere but here.   
  
She tries to move, to inch away from Alec’s hands, but he’s strong, and his forearms circle her thighs and push her ass onto the mattress. He holds still and lets her feel. Her own trembling legs in his grip, the spread of his ribcage on the inside of her knees as he breathes. Slow and steady. Max hides her face behind her hands and tries to muffle the hiccupping sobs, and her clit and cunt and stomach throb so badly she thinks she will die.   
  
She doesn’t expect his tongue, and she cries and moans and tries to gasp for air. His mouth is wet and heavy with saliva, and too gentle on her abused skin. She needs more, and harder, but Alec’s hands hold her still; pressed against the bed. His licks are slow and relentless, and Max claws his arms with her nails, and tries to rock, her body convulsing in time with his tongue. She comes long and hard, with the pad of Alec’s tongue pressed against her clit, and with the knuckles of her hands pressed against her mouth to muffle the sound.  
  
Then she cries, great wrecking sobs, with her knees pulled against her chest. Tears and sweat mix on her brow and she licks the salt gathered on her upper lip. Alec leaves the bed, his weight shifting the springs of the mattress. His scent leaves the room, and Max can smell the stale sweat and the old sheets again.   
  
Then the mattress dips again, and Alec’s familiar fingers run over her face, calloused and warm. A moist towel follows their trail as he wipes the sweat and tears from her face. His palms spread open her legs, and this time she doesn’t fight them. The towel moves over her clit, and the crease of her things. His lips follow its trail, grazing her pubic bone. His fingers squeeze her hips, and she lifts her ass off the bed.   
  
His hands move her limbs like one would a doll and Max doesn’t care. Strong hands between her shoulder blades press her head down between her elbows and she breathes against the crumbled sheets. He is hard and hot against her and Max is so wet and open and ready that she could scream. Instead she rocks on her elbows, needy and growling.   
  
He fucks her like she always imagined he would, with deep and even strokes, a finger stroking her clit and the crease of her ass. His knees push her legs further apart, and he pushes deeper and Max bites the sheet, the stale smell clogging her nostrils. She screams around the fabric and pushes back against his cock. She wants to hear him scream, but instead he bites her shoulder as he comes. She shudders against his pulsing cock, unable to stop her own orgasms.  
  
For the first time in days Max sleeps. Their limbs entwined like the origami Joshua has been learning to make. She wakes with her head resting on Alec’s hip, and she licks his soft cock; pressing her cheek against the open buttons of his jeans. The skin is salty and she lets her teeth graze the hardening head. Alec jerks awake with a grunt, but she clamps her fingers around his hipbones to hold him still. Groggily he calls out her name.  
  
“Max”  
  
She swallows the head of his cock, and lets the smooth skin rub again the roof of her mouth. Alec grabs the arch of her foot, and she can feel the moans and the grunts where her leg rests against his chest. He comes fast and hard, and Max doesn’t mind. She licks him clean, and buries her nose in his skin, just breathing in the scent. Alec’s fingers rub circles on her ankles as he pulls her to him, his tongue cleaving her open again.   
  
Max likes the silence between them. For once it’s not uncomfortable because the air is filled with breaths and moans, and the anticipating silence before a scream. They shower together, and Max stands under the spray while Alec lets the soap build bubbles on his palm. He still doesn’t say anything, and Max is grateful. Gently he just lets the soap travel over her spine, and down her leg as his fingers gently press in her. She rides his hand, with her palms squeezed into fists against the linoleum wall. It’s not even about coming anymore, just the knowledge that he is there, trying to fix her.   
  
So, she kisses him for the first time under the spray of the shower. The water has already gone cold, but his lips are warm and firm. She knows that later she will be horrified at her own lack of guilt, but right now her body is beating in time with this man. She refuses to feel any self-reproach as Alec carries her back to bed, and the water from her hair seeps into the sheets.   
  
OC gets back from work later in the day. Strips of sunlight warm the bed through the blinds. Alec is sleeping, the muscles of his jaw relaxed, and snoring a little. Max doesn’t wake him, not yet, even though her body is still pulsing.   
  
Cindy peeks in from the doorway holding a bag of takeout. Max nods for her to come in, pulling a t-shit over her head. Cindy doesn’t say anything, just sits by the bed and hands out cartons and chopsticks. Max fishes out thick pieces of pork and dips them into the black bean sauce.  _Cindy went to the good place_. She would have to pay her back next week when the Jam Pony pay cheques came through.   
  
Alec wakes up when they’re halfway through the boxes. He kisses her calf sleepily, and Cindy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even give him a look. Alec looks sheepish, but Cindy just smiles gently and hands him a box and a pair of chopsticks. Max wonders what had transpired between them before yesterday.   
  
Throughout the meal he keeps stealing glances at Max, and she can feel that he wants to say something. Cindy seems to sense it too, and easily she collects the empty boxes.  
  
“I’m gonna go open up the windows, Boo, ‘cause this junk has made the whole place stink like meat.”   
  
Max loves how she can be so cool; make her actions look accidental and real, even if they all know she is leaving for their benefit. When Cindy’s out of the room Alec barks:  
  
“This ain’t normal.”  
  
Max just raises her eyebrow, and shakes her own box at him.  
  
“ _The Cloud Dragon_  is the best Chinese in the neighbourhood.”  
  
He looks away, and Max can see his jaw tensing and losing its slept-in look.   
  
“I can smell it, you know. The artificial shit.”  
  
Gently Max gets off the bed. She tries to make as little noise as possible, and steps gently past the boxes and clothes on the floor. She walks to the door, and Alec makes a move to stop her. Instead she turns to the window, keeping her eyes resolutely fixed on the sunlight. That way she can pretend that the tears are from the light.   
  
“Before you got me out, they injected me with something. I think they were trying to collect my eggs.”  
  
Her voice dies out at the end of the sentence, and Max can feel the blood drain from her face, leaving her light-headed. She hasn’t felt this kind of panic since her first heat when she was thirteen. Trying to pee on a stick that wouldn’t hold still in her shaking hand. She left that halfway-house that evening, not watching the guy next door in the face as he asked why she was packing. The strip had never turned blue, but her fingers had still shook.  
  
“I went to see the med guys. They gave me a shot.”  
  
She looks at him surprised, and using her stillness to his advantage Alec slides off the bed and moves behind her to gaze out of the window, seeking with his eyes whatever she was looking at.   
  
“I’d never do that to you, Maxie. Not when you’d had no choice in the matter.”  
  
He hugs her to his side, the box of chow mein still in his left hand, and kisses her hair in an imitation of a long gone moment of intimacy. She knows it’s just the hormones, but for a moment she feels sad. She grabs the box from his hand and throws it to the floor.  
  
“Now”  
  
He lifts her against the blinds, and the glass is warm on the skin of her ass. He doesn’t let her get ready, just pushes in up to the hilt, and Max presses her nails into his shoulders. Her cunt clamps and squeezes around him, and she moans into the air. It’s too good and it’s coming to an end, she can feel it slipping away. The tears from her burning eyes fall then, and she masks her sobs into her sighs. Alec licks the tears from her cheeks and says  _shh, shh, Maxie_  and fucks her harder.  
  
Sometime in the night Max wakes to the feel of Alec’s hands. The pads of his fingers sliding between her breasts. His face nuzzles the skin between her legs, his tongue doing lazy laps around her clit. She feels good, and she pulls her legs against her chest, giving him more room. He hums, and she can feel the stretch of his smile, as his nose slides across her pubic bone.  
  
“It’s just you now. No more shit.”  
  
They both freeze at his words, and Max can feel the smile disappearing, and his shoulders tensing to get up. Instead she grabs his arm, stopping him. He lets her pull his palm to her face. She sucks on the pad of his ring finger, teeth grazing the tip. She pulls his forefinger into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around the digit like she had his cock. He watches her, chin resting on the edge of her stomach. She lets the finger slide out of her mouth.   
  
“It’s just you too now, okay.”


End file.
